


At Last

by nalison



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, I don't know it needed to happen, I'm Sorry, Jason you ass, don't murder me, its supposed to be soothing...?, lexa - Freeform, sorta angst, sorta fluff, too soon I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nalison/pseuds/nalison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Lexa's death, she finds herself in a place strikingly similar to home... with the exception of old faces.<br/>Based on a Tumblr prompt<br/>Reviews are appreciated but mostly just thanks for reading<br/>(and I know, too soon, too soon...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Last

**Author's Note:**

> After Lexa's death, she finds herself in a place strikingly similar to home... with the exception of old faces.  
> Based on a Tumblr prompt 
> 
> Goodbye Lexa, you were everything. And also thank you to the 100 fandom for all your amazing support and antics, particularly with all of this. Reviews are appreciated, but mostly just thanks for reading :)

I believe that we have done well, her and I. Despite everything that has happened, to me these last moments seem to pass in strange peace. Shadows moved across the room in glances and I want to say something, for her to notice. I open my mouth to speak but the words don't come. It’s then that I realized that these shadows might not truly be there, but instead are some fault of the eyes, losing their sense of the world. This surprises me; I did not think death would be similar to falling into water. Losing your breath does not choke you if you choose not to fight it, but neither is it like falling asleep. I am glad at least, that the pain seems to be leaving me.  
Clarke looks at me, trying to see everything at once, take it all in. I wish I could tell her gently that that wouldn't be possible. So much is communicated in last looks, I think, but there is a limit to how much you can understand. This isn’t fair. If I must be taken from Clarke then I would want her to remember me as I truly was. If we had had our lifetime, then I think such understanding could have been shared. I could have truly known every aspect of her. Of all my memories, this is one of the most painful.  
Looking up at her face I try as the light fades around me to see into her eyes that are flooded with tears. They are emotional and fragile looking, but I can see that she is not seeing me, that she is seeing my body that is slipping fast away from her. It is at this point I come to realize I’m already thinking of myself and my body in separate forms. With the last flickers of pain leaving me I feel that last bond severed. Death smiles at me like the edge of a knife as Clarke moves out of sight into darkness. “No.” I thought, desperate for her.  
Almost in response I heard a voice reply “Tell me that you love me.” Gently, I did. The end came anyway.

When I wake, I am surprised by how little is different. I sense the subtle change in the air, the brightness too animated, and the absence of the edge of my mind that always warns me when there is anyone near, or anything. There is no life here. At first, all I can see is light. It is grey light, like in the long winter that sighs and sings. I can picture the sky that would breathe such a light, as white as new milk. But when I see the sky it is not white, it is blue. It is summer, or almost summer drifting in late from the spring. I know this by the clouds that gaze over me like the faces we see gazing over us when we're children lying in safe arms. I see the trees, with long frail branches; leaves fresh and pale, golden in the afternoon, murmuring in a breeze. Though I don't hear whispering. It feels as though it should be silent, without the whispering, but it’s instead the soft quiet that belongs to the deepest of autumns.  
I find myself lying along the side of a forest path, just like those I have left behind me. This could be home. Running my hands through the dry grass and twigs disbelievingly I get to my feet. My hand goes instinctively to my side but I find to my horror that I have no weapon. Agitated somewhat, I look around me, but seeing only deserted trees decide to walk along the path. After all, it must lead somewhere. As I walk I feel a certain weightlessness that resembles light-headedness. Looking down for a moment I realize that whilst my clothes have remained much the same and I seem in good health, my Armour has gone. Unsettling indeed. This place seems peaceful, but is marginally impractical. However I’m in no mood to think of this. I try to respect the passage of life, remain dignified, as all of this must have some meaning to it. Yet, I remember. I remember everything of my past life and I cannot bare this.  
It is with these thoughts I leave the forest with a heavy heart, seeming to come into a clearing. The path fades out into grass that stretches outwards under the sunlight, and some distance away I can hear running water. It is the first definitive sound I have come across and I move towards it gratefully. It is as I reach the clearing peak a downwards path comes into my sight, winding down towards a pale house, small yet familiar. Its roof is broad and overcasts a slight rise in the land which forms a kind of platform, from which a person might stand and overlook the clearing. On this platform I make out three distinct figures, half concealed in shade. They are looking at me, I am certain, but they do not move nor appear tense. I catch myself before adopting a defensive stance. Nothing can hurt me here. My fight is over. As casually as I can manage, I make my way down the path towards them.  
I see them more clearly as I approach and at first I am confused as they, like the house, seem familiar. Then, I can hardly keep myself from running. I feel a strange assurance, a swelling feeling that tell me that this is right, this is how things are supposed to be, how they were always supposed to be. That I would see them again. I do not run to Anya, but I do not stop myself from going into her arms when I reach her. She is almost smiling, a miracle in itself. “Heda.” she says quietly and I almost choke on my laughter. I move straight from her arms into Gustus's. He is as he always has been. At this point I feel a clawing tightness at my throat, a throat that isn’t there. I wonder if tears exist in this world. If they do, Gustus shows none. He embraces me though I cannot embrace him, not yet. But I let him. Memories have frozen me but his have passed, his age visible in his eyes.  
I move back and as Gustus understands, letting me go, I turn to her. I do not feel as I am turning that I will have the strength to face her but suddenly, she is there. All else fades and I am caught in a moment where I am looking at her and her at me. I feel too much for one person to feel in one moment of time. In the pale light two figures stumble towards each other. Their hands meet and light spills forth like a flood, the light of a thousand lanterns. Costia pulls me forward into her arms and I hear her voice whisper “Your fight is over.”  
At last, I truly understand the meaning of these words.


End file.
